Friends Forever
by Livilulu
Summary: You could say I have a good life. Me, Katniss Everdeen, victor of the 74th Hunger Games, engaged to someone amazing, all the money in the world, but that would be pure ignorance.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

You could say I have a good life. Me, Katniss Everdeen, victor of the 74th Hunger Games, engaged to someone amazing, all the money in the world, but that would be pure ignorance. My only comfort is Peeta these days. I've lost Prim, I've lost Gale, and I've lost my home. I can't bring myself to be mad with Prim, and I don't regret my decision of choosing Peeta at all. I can bring myself to be mad at Gale, however. How could he leave me here? One of the only reminders of my old life. My mom works as a healer in District 14. While the construction's going on, some workers get sick, for "mysterious and unknown diseases". It's obviously something wrong with the construction materials, and everyone knows it, but nobody says it.

These last few days have been especially tough, and I've woken up screaming several times this week. Peeta's hushed me back to sleep in his arms every time, but that only stops them, it doesn't abolish them. Last night was the worst, I fell out of bed and wailed at the top of my lungs. It's because today is the day of the reaping.

District 13 has been forced to send forth tributes, now that every connection between them and nuclear forces have been abolished. Now we manufacture plastics. _Plastics._It's the worst smell to wake up to.

I wasn't always dreading the reaping. In fact, just a month ago I slept happily, but that was before the Capitol called me in the dead of night. I have to mentor this year's tributes, and next year's, and next years, until there's a new victor who the capitol has deemed more interesting. I was horrified, and that's when the nightmares began.

Of course, I have to comply. I was told I have to attend the reapings this year or else authorities will come to our house and "escort" us. Yes, us, Peeta's insisted upon accompanying me, and I haven't complained once. I want him there. It's been traveling along the grape vine that they keep mentors in blank rooms with bunk beds and a toilet, getting served three meals, but other than that, only leave the room to undergo mentoring duties. The Capitol immediately squashed these rumors, but everyone knows they're still true. Haymitch has told me.

Haymitch is my new good friend, as difficult as it is. We're slowly working on his alcohol obsession, the key word being slowly. We're neighbors, so we see each other often, but nothing can replace Peeta. And nothing but Peeta can replace Gale.

I'm teaching Peeta to hunt. He absolutely sucks at it, not to mention he's a bit worried about getting caught, but it doesn't bother him to much, which is good. He's caught a squirrel. That's about it.

Hunting isn't my favorite activity anymore. Every time I watch an animal's life end, their twitching bodies turning lifeless, I think of dying tributes, and shudder. Peeta has the opposite approach. He doesn't look at them at all. He wants to get it over with, but he won't let me skin it. I don't think he likes feeling helpless, like I do at night, when he comforts me.

I'll have to go through it all again.


	2. Chapter 2

I try to think that if I just cooperate, nobody I love will be killed, but I know that's not the case. The Capitol hates me less now that I helped them prove they're more powerful than the public, but the meaning of the rebellion is still fresh in everyone's mind, and there have been a few skirmishes in the poorer districts over the last few months. Not to mention Capitol officials have been hard at work trying to convince the public that the Capitol is not corrupt, nor did any workers force anything Finnick said they did. That, oddly enough, was easiest to pull off. The Capitol claimed that Annie and Finnick were both insane, and with Annie's actual insanity to back them up, citizens were easily convinced. But not me. Not Peeta.

Right now, cooperating is the best thing for everyone, so I slip into a plain dress my mother dropped off when she visited three weeks ago, and Peeta dresses almost normally, though throwing a tie into the mix. We head off.

There was always an air of terror and mystery in the cafeteria the day of the reaping, but today it's almost unbearable. There's absolutely no sound or movement except for me and Peeta's footsteps as we slip silently through the crowd to the stage. Everyone lets us through. I see almost everyone's been crying. This is horrifying. I take Peeta's hand, and he squeezes mine reassuringly, as if he knows I'm worried. What if it's a blonde, blue eyed twelve year old named Rosie who's reaped. I didn't want to watch anyone die. Secretly I hoped the kids reaped were horrible, vicious seventeen year olds who couldn't wait to kill. I wouldn't have trouble seeing them die that way, but District 13 has none of those.

Peeta and I trudge up to the stage, and I completely tune out, not caring to hear what the mayor has to say. My eyes are skimming the crowd, trying to take a hard look at them. Their expressions are all the same; horribly scared, and I tear my eyes away. The poor children, for some of them this is the first reaping they'll ever experience, and for two of them, their last. I snap back to the present as the mayor takes out a bowl full of slips. "Ladies first!" he calls out, as is custom, and I stiffen along with all of the girls. The mayor clears his throat, and announces a name.

"Cyri Lozier!" he calls out, and a group of girls near the back all burst into tears, including one girl around the middle. The girls appear to all be around 15 years of age, and they are all very tan, busty, and skinny. The girl who steps foreword, wiping under her eyes, is a short, tan, brunette girl who must be Cyri. I sigh. She's gonna die. She has no chance. Cyri stumbles onto the stage, silently communicating with the pack in the back. She must be very popular. I hope she realizes how serious this is. I switch my attention to the mayor again.

"Excellent! Gentlemen, now." he says, and Peeta stiffens this time. Peeta must know that this kid will look to him for guidance as a male figure. Peeta's good with that, good with words, good at soothing.

"Raziel Caverly!" the mayor calls out, and this boy doesn't burst into tears, he isn't held back, he's not wiping his eyes. He simply walks away from his friends, who aren't crying but look close to it, and walks stiffly onto the stage. He has darker bronze hair and black eyes, with mildly colored skin and an ever so slight amount of freckles on his nose. He's of medium build, not short but not abnormally tall, and he's not wimpy or slight but he's no bodybuilder. He couldn't be older than 16. Honestly, his demeanor and build remind me of Peeta. I squeeze my fiance's hand, and it's our turn to silently communicate.

Let the games begin.

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I'm dreading meeting these kids, particularly Raziel, but I know I must meet them and at least make an effort to bond, for their lives will be in my hands for a week or more, hopefully. I'm sitting at the dining table in the train, and with four seats, two on each side, Peeta and I have decided to separate for this meal, since the kids are more important than us, right now.

Cyri comes in suddenly, wearing the skimpiest dress I've ever seen, a jet black shiny dress, skin tight, leaving nothing to the imagination, and covering nothing but her stomach and undergarments. Peeta doesn't give her a second glance, and I feel a rush of emotion, love for Peeta. Still, I clear my throat, and pat the seat next to me, as a warning. _Sit next to Peeta, and you're dead. _She changes course from sitting next to me and flounces over next to Peeta, purposely ignoring me, and I'm fuming. What a little brat! She crosses her legs and bites her bottom lip, but Peeta has no interest in her. I suddenly feel a bit jealous, but push the feeling away and clear my throat again. "Good afternoon Cyri, I'm Katniss. My fiance, next to you, is Peeta," I say, and Peeta's eyes slowly travel up to mine, and they lock, I never want to look away, but I do when Raziel comes in. He truly looks nervous, shuffling his feet, staring at his simple sneakers lined with shiny looking plastic, and sits down next to me, still not looking up. His face is expressionless, as far as I can tell. Poor boy. I smile.

"Hi Raziel. I'm Katniss. This is Peeta," I introduce us again, as the controlling person I am. He glances up at me quickly, and I can't read his expression, but his face isn't blank. It's brimming with so many emotions I couldn't possibly isolate one. I feel sorry for the guy, but pity won't get him sponsors, or trigger my full effort.

"So, we're your mentors. Officially I'm your mentor, but Peeta's helping. We both won last season, sorta, and the year before, officially," I say, trying to sound mature and supportive, but really I'm as scared as them. I'm only turning twenty in four months, and while they're much younger, being 15 and 16, I'm only a bit more mature.

"Do y'all have any talents?" I ask, and the table is silent. Neither speaks. They both seem to be waiting for the other to talk. Then Raziel speaks up.

"I can knife throw well, and I can handle a bow and arrow pretty okay," he answers, and I could hug him. This is exactly what I was hoping for, but maybe I'm getting too excited over too little. I'll have to test him further, but right now I do have to inquire upon Cyri. I turn to her. "Cyri?"

She purses her lips, and answers, "Applying makeup." Peeta flinches. I am frozen for a moment. Is this a joke to her? Then I meet her eyes, and they are so full of desperation that I can't help but pity her. The poor girl had no idea she'd be forced into this, she had no preparation, and she knows that she won't last beyond the blood bath. It's my job to give her a strategy, lay it out nice and easy like, and make sure she has the resources and information to stay alive. I owe it to her. I glance at Peeta, and I know we've thought of the same thing, and I'm proud of myself. I almost always over think things, and Peeta often under thinks, so the fact that we've come to the same conclusion is certainly a feat.

"Well, first of all, quickly run to your room and change into loose pants and a loose shirt. I guarantee you they won't be giving you dresses in the arena, but save the dress. We may need it for the interviews."


	3. Chapter 3

Cyri's strategy that I so carefully planned out for her is simple. Make a friend or two in training, and head wherever they head, camp out with them. At first glance, the plan seems easy. The tough part will be selecting the friend. I can't be with her in training, so I can't tell her who to go for, but the friend should be smart, woodsy, and not a career, and of course take a liking to Cyri. That way, they'll head into whatever shelter available and work together until the end. The end will be the hard part. Cyri's token is a little pin with 3 poisonous berries glues onto it, with all sort of glitter and stuff to make it look fake. I'll save up sponsor money for sanitizing the berries some way, preferably cheaply, and let her clean them, and feed them to her friend. If she ever gets to that point.

Raziel's plan that Peeta devised is similar in some ways, such as the making friends part. We disagree on other things. Peeta doesn't want to isolate Raziel with a friend. In fact, he suggested they team up and form their own group, but I have a bad feeling about it. They don't talk to each other. It would just be odd, and one of them might end up dead at the hands of the other if we went with that.

Cyri's demeanor for the chariot was attractive and slightly skimpy, but not overly so. So sexy, yes. Raziel was the first in history to wear jeans and a tee shirt, which aught to attract attention. Cyri made her voice seductive in the interviews, and Raziel tried to sound as strong and knowledgeable as possible.

Today, we have a mentor's conference to get a feel for the job. Peeta can't come with me.

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I sit at a long, clear, glass table with slightly rounded edges, somewhere around the middle. The whole table is full, except for two seats right across from me, and there's slight chatter as we wait for the missing mentors. Some mentors were allowed to bring friends, but I was last to request it and there were no more seats. I want to see Johanna, if she's mentoring this year, see how she's doing. I know it's been hard for her, having the rebellion fail like it did. She's worked so hard in District 13, just to have everyone captured. I bounce my knee, anxious to see her. When she walks in, I stand up, but quickly sit down so as not to attract attention, but I couldn't have prepared myself for who she was with.

Johanna Mason, a good friend and victor of a particularly difficult Hunger Games season a few years ago, is arm in arm with someone very familiar. I gasp and stare at him, my eyes flitting between him, her, and the rings on their finger. I can't believe it. They are engaged?

Johanna Mason and Gale Hawthorne?

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I spend the whole meeting staring at my feet, thinking resentful thoughts about Gale and Johanna. She was one or two years older than him! He was my ex best friend! He had a family to support! And most of all, why had I not known about this? The moment the meeting is over, I wait until Johanna and Gale stand up before I walk briskly to the door and stand by the doorway. I'm not sure if Gale recognized me or not, but he's going to now. The moment we lock eyes he gets a sad, sorry look in his eyes, and a bit of my bitterness washes away, but not all of it. Not enough.

"'Lo Johanna, Gale." I say, and Johanna seems to recognize that there's something wrong, as she briskly lets go of Gale's hand and walks past me, with a horribly un-Johanna-like welcoming smile. I wait until she's out of earshot before I turn to Gale.

"Well hello, friend," I say coldly, and he looks like he's been slapped for a moment before he turns cold, too.

"I'm sorry, I- just got busy. I was going to mail you," he says, and I breathe in pointedly, my eyes narrowing.

"Mail me? I deserve more than that, Gale! I was your best friend for 10 years, and Johanna's a personal friend of mine. I told you when Peeta proposed for real. Why didn't you? Why haven't you mailed me at _all_?" I ask, and he seems to have no answer. We sand there for a few moments, expressionless wordless, until I open my mouth again. "Have fun, Gale. She deserves you," I say, and turn on my heel, and walk away.

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I'm not planning to say anything to Peeta. He already doesn't like him for doing this to me, leaving me. Peeta knows he's a rotten hunter, he's not afraid to admit it. I'm afraid Peeta's only heard about Gale during the time's I've been extremely mad at him, and he now has an impression of him Gale doesn't really deserve.

Peeta has a bad enough impression of Gale. He doesn't need this, more worry. But I do have to worry now, about seeing him, repairing the friendship, getting over my anger. All while balancing the lives of Raziel and Cyri.

_*I'm sorry this was a short chapter, but I feel it was meaningful, and cramming anything else in there would be hard. I hope you like it!_


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